
'A 



ftfl. "'•;7^\ 







LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 




UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 







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LIVING PICTURES 



(STljnrcl) of tl)e ^olg (JTommunian, 



OTHER THOUGHTS IN VERSE. 



BY 



/ 

KATHARINE INGMIRE. 



St 




NEW YORK: 
ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 

900 BROADWAY, COR. 20th ST. 



7? 



X** 



Copyright, 1878, by 
Anson D. F. Randolph & Company. 



" In a good work our hopes should be high in 
the beginning, however we may fall short in the 
end. When Christ is the sure foundation-stone, 
elect and precious, we may piously trust that 
the temple of living stones may arise, animated 
by His Spirit, adorned by His grace, bound 
together by His love, and everywhere inscribed. 
Holiness to the Lord" 

[Dr. Muhlenberg's address at the laying of 
the corner-stone of the Church of the Holy Com- 
munion, New York, July 24, 1844.] 



^xtintt. 



Coming to the Church of the Holy Com- 
munion thirty years after the words I have 
quoted were spoken by its first pastor, and 
carefully observing its work, I soon felt that 
the hopes must have been high indeed in the 
beginning that had not been already more 
than realized. On expressing my feelings in 
" Dreamland Church in Stone," I found I 
had only echoed the thoughts of hundreds, 
many of whom thanked me so warmly for 
that expression, and still ask for copies of 
it, that I have been tempted to send forth 
this volume (in aid of one of the many chari- 
ties of the church), which I affectionately in- 
scribe to the " dear, familiar friends" who 
now gather around me, and make me feel 
that I can no longer say with truth that I am 
a " lone, strange worshipper." 

K. I. 

(5) 



Smmtowfl (£\mxt\x in Mm. 

THOUGHTS ON THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY COM- 
MUNION, NEW YORK. 

" This shall be my rest forever ; here will I dwell, for I have a de- 
light therein." 

A Dreamland Church once stood for me 

Within a charming book ; 
I never thought on church so fair 

With earthly eyes to look ; 
But when the last awaking came, 

And death's long sleep was o'er, 
I hoped a fairer still to see 

Upon the eternal shore. 

A stranger in the city, I 

Set out to find a home, 
And wandered till I hearcl a bell 

That said so plainly, " Come," 

(9) 



10 Dreamland Church in Stone. 

I could but choose to follow on, 

Drawn by a sound so sweet, 
And thank the Lord, who to this place 

First led my weary feet. 

For rest, and sweetest rest I found 

Within the dear church-wall 
Where Mammon is exalted not, 

Where God is all in all. 
Where praises flow as freely as 

The blessings God doth give ; 
Where Christ's own poor are feasted, and 

The poor in spirit live. 

Where kindly deeds show forth the thanks 

The loving lips express ; 
Where alms " lend wings to prayer," and make 

A church that God doth bless. 
Where I, an unknown worshipper 

Within the holy place, 
Have sweet communion found, though not 

One dear, familiar face. 



Dreamland Church in Stone. II 

The loved and lost seem very near, 

The Saviour nearer still ; 
The Comforter comes down to me 

And shows the Father's will, 
And with the unknown choir around 

I join the choir above, 
And " Holy, Holy, Holy," sing, 

And taste the feast of love. 

Now, next the church where I was born 

God's child and heir to be, 
That gave through all my early years 

Her tender care to me, 
I love the dear and precious church 

I found in sorrow's day, 
That seemed to hold a wondrous power 

To charm my grief away. 

And I — a lone, strange worshipper — 

When called afar to roam, 
Leave not without a saddened heart 

The place I call my home, 



12 Dreamland Church in Stone. 

For I have found that Dreamland Church 

Stands not alone in song ; 
That all the beauty church doth need 

Doth to this church belong. 

God's favor rest upon their heads 

Who laid the glorious plan, 
And built a Dreamland Church in stone 

To bless their fellow-man. 
And may the bell for aye ring out 

That says so sweetly, " Come," 
And many seekers, through all time, 

Find here their Father's home. 



Among the joys of heaven 
The least may not be this j 

The memory of holy hours 
That came so near its bliss. 
(13) 



giving gttHxti 

IN THE 

CHURCH OF THE HOLY COMMUNION. 



As in the interior of the dome of St. Peter's 
at Rome, stones of fair color present to the 
eye pictures of beauty, so do the " lively 
stones" in the Lord's house present pictures 
very pleasant, and never to be forgotten. 

THE CHILDREN'S BENCH. 

u Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings Thou hast perfected 
praise." 

Sitting where the morning sun 

Is brightened by its fall 
Through the gay-tinted window 

High in the church's wall, 

US) 



1 6 Living Pictures. 

I see a row of maidens ; 

Such little maidens they ! 
But none too young to listen, 

Or creed and prayer to say. 

I often look with pleasure 
On some bright, happy face 

That the canvas of Angelico 
Or Raphael might grace. 

You would think they understood 
Every word the preacher said, 

From the steady, earnest gaze, 
And the pose of the head. 

And I think they understand ; 

I'll tell the reason why. 
I only know one rule to judge 

Both men and children by, 

So I think they understand 

When they practice what they hear, 



Living Pictures. iy 

And that they do sometimes 
To me is very clear. 

For deeds of thoughtful kindness 
I have known these children do, 

And acts of self-denial 

I have seen them practice too. 

I once overheard them say, 
" They loved their pastor so," 

And when asked the reason, said, 
" He's so good to us, you know." 

Thus I see that love and pity 

And gratitude have found 
A lodgment in their tender hearts 

Like seeds in fertile ground. 

And I pray these little maidens 

May daily grow in grace, 
And practice holy preaching 

Till they see the Saviour's face. 

2 



1 8 Living Pictures. 

That the faithful pastor's crown 
As the stars of heaven may shine, 

When God shall own his work, and say, 
" Thy children all are Mine." 



THE LORD'S SUPPER. 

" As oft as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the 
Lord's death till He come." 

" He that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwelleth in mo 
and I in him.'* 

Somewhere in my travels a picture I've seen 
Of Luke, the beloved, in a trance ; 

His feet touch the earth, but a vision above 
Has caught and made captive his glance. 

The clouds have rolled back, as the waves of 
the sea 
Once rolled at the prophet's command, 
And through the bright pathway that opens 
beyond 
Comes a glimpse of the promised land ; 

And just at the entrance, the mother so meek, 
Whom all generations call blest, 

(19) 



20 Living Pictures. 

Is standing and folding with tenderest care 
The holy Christ-child to her breast. 

And while the Apostle is gazing, intent, 
The angels have come to his aid ; 

The colors, so rare, to the finest are ground, 
In wonderful order are laid. 

His fingers are moved by the Spirit, unseen, 

In reply to his earnest prayer, 
That the vision now glowing in beauty above 

May live on the canvas as fair. 

The sun from the zenith is pouring 
Its glory through each pictured pane, 

And chasing the shades from each corner 
And nook of the holy fane. 

The sun never shineth at noontide 
In this place, on the Lord's own day, 

That shines not on loving disciples 
Assembled to praise and pray, 



Living Pictures. 21 

And partake of the holy emblems 
Of Christ's precious body and blood, 

That give strength to resist the evil, 
And grace to follow the good. 

The worshippers lowly are kneeling 
As the words of the prayer are said, 

That shall make a heavenly feast for them 
Of the common wine and bread. 

And as with the rest I am kneeling 

A vision seems coming to me ; 
Oh, would that the Spirit would aid me 

To paint the picture I see. 

'Tis not of the child, and the mother 
With her exquisite, saintly grace, 

But of One in the strength of manhood 
With worn and agonized face. 

The sins of the world are upon Him, 
And now in the fierce noonday blaze 



22 Living Pictures. 

He is hung, and the surging rabble 
All mock and jest as they gaze. 

The arms outstretched on the cruel cross 

Were ever extended to bless ; 
The feet now pierced were swift to go 

At the cry and call of distress. 

But hushed are the people's hosannas, 
For envy and malice bear sway, 

And fierce are the foes that stand nearest, 
And timid the friends far away. 

The vision is closing in blackness ; 

The sun its bright face hath withdrawn, 
Refusing to shine on the anguish, 

The body so bleeding and torn. 

But a voice seems to say from the darkness, 
" My body was broken for thee ; 

Forget not My dying commandment — - 
Do this in remembrance of Me." 



Living Pictures. 23 

My thoughts come again to the present, 

And I gaze at the throng awhile 

That is passing with softened footfall 
To the altar, down the aisle. 

Both the young and the old are going ; 

The old must have grace to die ; 
The young need much strength for the battles 

With sin that before them lie. 

And the strong and the weak are going ; 

The weak of much patience have need, 
And the strong need the consecration 

Of love for their every deed. 

The weary and heavily laden 

Are going that they may find rest ; 

The gay and light-hearted are going, 
For there they may be more blest. 

And I know, dearest Lord, Thou art there ; 
Thou hast promised to meet Thine own ; 



24 Living Pictures. 

To come to hearts that forget Thee not, 
And in breaking of bread be known. 

And I pray the lives of Thy children 
May reflect the beauty of Thine, 

As on Saint Luke's canvas the picture 
Of the heavenly vision gave sign. 

That life's work, by the aid of the Spirit, 

May wear a far holier grace 
Because, through the way Thou hast opened, 

By faith we have seen Thy face. 



THE AGED WOMEN'S REST. 

11 Abide with us, for the day is far spent and the night is at hand.' 

THE dear Lord's day is ending ; 

The sun, far on its way, 
Is passing through the western gate 

To crown the western day. 

And gray the shades are falling, 
Where fell such glorious light 

It seemed as if some rays from Christ 
Were lent to make it bright, 

To give His waiting children 

A foretaste of that day 
When in the heavenly temple 

He shall give light alway. 

(25) 



26 Living Pictures. 

Now as the shades grow darker 
I turn mine eyes to where 

The aged ones together meet 
For evening praise and prayer. 

I know not by what ways they came 
To find this earthly rest ; 

I only know, that having found, 
They surely must be blest. 

For memory lends her aid to read 
The look that I see there ; 

That look of saintly, calm repose 
None but the old can wear. 

A look that ever seems to say, 
" The day is well-nigh done ; 

The shades of night are coming fast, 
But victory is won. 

" The fight was long and steady, 
The soldiers sorely tried, 



Living Pictures. 27 

But in His strength they conquer 
Who serve the Crucified." 



As with folded hands they wait, 

They scan the battle-field, 
And praise the name of Him who made 

The strongest foeman yield. 

On wrinkled brow and bending form, 

On failing ear and eye, 
On heads of white and heads of gray 

The growing shadows lie, 

That tell of night and darkness 

And the long, quiet rest ; 
The flesh in dreamless slumber, 

The soul among the blest. 

Life's shadows lie behind them, 

Death's shadow lies before, 
But only through its darkness 

They reach the shining door 



28 Living Pictures. 

That opens to receive them 
When shadows flee away, 

And the King in all His beauty- 
Is seen in perfect day. 



WRITTEN FOR THE CHILDREN IN THE BABIES* 

SHELTER, IN CHARGE OF THE SISTERS 

OF THE HOLY COMMUNION. 

Air — " Adeste Fideles." 

41 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." 

SLEEP, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near ; 

With Him for a watcher thou needest not fear ; 

The tenderest babe in His love hath a part, 

He keepeth the weakest the nearest His heart. 
His arm doth uphold them, 
His love doth enfold them, 

Then sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near. 

Sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near ; 
No father or mother can hold thee so dear ; 
Since for Him the innocents suffered and died, 
He draweth young children all close to His side. 

(29) 



30 Lullaby. 

His arm doth uphold them, 

His love doth enfold them, 

Then sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near. 

Sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near, 
And sweet are His words as they fall on the ear, 
" Forbid not the children to come unto Me, 
For only the child-like My kingdom shall see/' 
My arm shall uphold them, 
My love shall enfold them, 
Then sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near. 

Sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near ; 

Oh, serve Him forever, my baby, so dear. 

Keep always as guileless as now in thy heart, 

If thou from thy Saviour wouldst never depart. 
His arm shall uphold thee, 
His love shall enfold thee, 

Then sleep, baby, sleep, for thy Saviour is near. 



Infant tongues should ever raise 
Sweetest songs on Christmas days ; 
In a manger, rudely made, 
Christ a little child was laid. 

Like the shepherds let us haste, 
Seek the blessed Christ-child's face ; 
Saw we never babe so sweet, 
Let us worship at His feet. 

There's a glory round His head, 
Though so low and strange His bed ; 
Like the magi, let us bring 

Unto Him our offering. 

(31) 



32 Infant's Christmas Song. 

Hearts unstained by sin and shame, 
Lips that ever praise His name, 
Willing feet to walk His ways, 
Minds to serve Him all our days. 



£ onq of Hoi**. 

" I will be glad and rejoice in Thee ; yea, my songs will I make of 
Thy name, Thou Most Highest." 

Dear Lord, my grateful heart would raise 
A thankful song of ardent praise, 
But all the language that I know 
Would fail my joy in Thee to show. 

Without Thy love on earth to bless, 
This earth were but a wilderness ; 
No shadowing Rock, no living Bread, 
No water from the Fountain-head. 

For me, who in Thy love repose, 
The desert blossoms as the rose ; 
By living waters, pure and sweet, 
Thou guid'st my weary > wayworn feet, 
3 (33) 



34 Song of Praise. 

To rest within the Rock's cool shade, 
For heavenward pilgrims kindly made 
A refuge and a safe retreat 
From angry storms and fervid heat. 

When looking back to Calvary 
I view what Thou hast done for me ; 
Thou drain'dst the cup of bitter woe 
That mine with joy might overflow. 

What can I render, Lord, for this 
Thy dying love ? — my dear-bought bliss ? 
I'll praise Thee while my life shall last, 
I'll cling to Thee ! O hold me fast ! 

And when Thy shadowy angel, Death, 
Shall draw from me life's latest breath, 
Then take me where I'll raise a strain 
Worthy the Lamb that once was slain. 



W\u %ttntmnt. 



G? 



At one, my God, with Thee ! 
What does this mean for me ? 

A Friend so near 

I seem to hear 
His pleading unto Thee ; 

Thy love so deep 

It would not keep 
This Friend from agony. 

At one, my God, with Thee ! 

What does this mean for me ? 
Pardon and peace, 
And sure release 

From sin's dread penalty ; 
A perfect dress — 
Christ's righteousness — 

In which Thy face to see. 

(35) 



36 The Atonement. 

At one, my God, with Thee ! 
What must this mean for me ? 

A narrow way, 

Crossed day by day 
With duties set by Thee : 

A willing mind, 

Ever resigned 
To what Thou shalt decree. 

At one, my God, with Thee ! 

What must this mean for me ? 
An active love, 
By deeds to prove 

I share Thy charity : 

Patience and prayer, 
And watchful care 

Lest I should part from Thee. 

At one, my God, with Thee ! 

What shall this mean for me ? 
After the strife 
The endless life 



The Atonement. 37 

And crown of victory ; 

The promised rest 

In mansions blest, 
By Christ prepared for me. 

At one, my God, with Thee ! 
What shall this mean for me ? 

A rapture sweet 

When I shall meet 
The Friend who rescued me, 

And by His loss, 

And through His cross, 
Made me at one with Thee. 



Written for the Semi-Centennial Anniversary of St. Paul's 
Church, Albany, N. Y., Oct. 21, 1877. 

Once more, O Lord, Thy children come 
To praise Thee in the dear church home 
Which Thou hast made through years to seem 
Like that bright path in Jacob's dream 
Where swift-winged angels came and went, 
On ministries of love intent. 

For this, O Lord, Thy name we praise, 
And joyful hallelujahs raise, 
And make this earthly temple ring 
With glad hosannas to our King. 

For in this place, though all unseen, 

Thy messengers of love have been, 

Bringing Thy peace to men forgiven, 

Returning with their thanks to heaven ; 
(38) 



Hymn. 39 

Rejoicing o'er each Christian birth, 
Bearing each ransomed soul from earth. 

Here Faith hath lent both eyes and wings 
To mount and gaze on heavenly things ; 
Here Hope hath brought her colors rare 
And painted pictures wondrous fair, 
And Love hath bound, with threefold cord, 
Each unto each, all to their Lord. 

Here earthly pilgrims, heavenward bound, 
Such sweet repose and joy have found 
That, though we may not see Thy face, 
We know that Thou art in this place, 
And by the blessings Thou hast given 
Made it the very gate of heaven. 

Be with us now as in past days ; 
Guide us and keep us in Thy ways ; 
Make every year, as past it flies, 
Draw us still nearer to the skies, 
That when life's journeys all are done 
The heavenly Canaan may be won. 



40 Hymn. 

Then in that home Thy name we'll praise, 
And joyful hallelujahs raise, 
And make Thy heavenly temple ring 
With glad hosannas to our King. 



<fcaiat*r (Bartfl. 

AWAKE, awake, and publish 

The joyful news abroad ; 
The sepulchre is empty, 

And risen is the Lord. 
The angels only wait, 

Ere back to heaven they speed, 
To tell the weeping mourners 

The Lord is risen indeed. 

Awake, awake, and follow, 

The Master goes before 
May greet thee in the garden, 

Or meet thee on the shore ; 
May join thee on life's journey, 

Go with thee to the end, 
With words of peace may cheer thee 

And prove thy dearest Friend. 

(41) 



42 Easter Carol. 

Awake, awake, oh, sinner, 

And let the Light shine in 
That first upon this morning 

Rose o'er a world of sin. 
Wake from thy deadly slumber, 

Thy Saviour bids thee rise 
And follow where He leadeth 

Until ye reach the skies. 

Awake, awake, and publish 

The joyful news around ; 
From morning until evening 

Prolong the welcome sound. 
The Lord is risen indeed, 

With joy let mortals say 
Till He shall come in glory 

At the last Easter day. 



WRITTEN ON SEEING A YOUNG AND LOVELY WOMAN 
INTERRED IN A CITY CHURCH-YARD. 

What is my new neighbor like, do you say, 
That came to her home next my own to-day ? 
In truth I know not whether dark or fair ; 
If golden or brown or raven her hair. 

I know those who bore her were sad of mien ; 
They loved not the task that brought them, I 

ween, 
For the house is narrow and dark and chill, 
And they brought her not of their own free 

will ; 

But an awful voice had bidden her come, 
And she left her dear babes and friends and 
home 

(43) 



44 My New Neighbor. 

To dwell through all time in the lonesome 

place 
Where friends may not enter, nor see her face. 

And I know a quiet neighbor she'll be, 
For all in that house rest so tranquilly ; 
Not a sound can come through the fast-closed 

door 
Till time shall be over, and death no more. 

And thoughts will come of my neighbor to- 
night 

As I close my window — put out the light. 

Shall I think of the body, in death's embrace, 

With closed eyes, sealed lips, and a pale, cold 
face? 

Nay! Rather I'll think of the soul's quick 

flight 
To its own bright home in mansions of light, 
Where the Saviour stands by the open door, 
Whom, not having seen, she hath loved before. 



My New Neighbor. 45 

The Saviour knoweth all souls that are His, 
And welcomes her gladly to realms of bliss ; 
He bids her rest calmly in Paradise 
Till the trumpet shall sound and the dead arise. 

She is clothed in beauty celestial now ; 
The seal of the ransomed set on her brow ; 
The faithful departed are gathering near, 
And voices of loved ones fall sweet on her ear. 

So I'll think no more of my neighbor to-night 
As out in the church-yard, still and white, 
But radiant with joy, in communion sweet 
With familiar friends at her Saviour's feet ; 

And ready to greet, near the open door, 
The coming friends she hath loved long before, 
Who, entering there through the Saviour's 

grace, 
May behold evermore the dear one's face. 



Float lightly, oh, sea, on thy surface to-day, 
The ship that is bearing our loved ones away. 
Let thy gentle waves lull them as softly to 

rest 
As the mother's sweet song lulls the babe at 

her breast. 
When the storm-god shall come in his terrible 

might 
And lash thy dark waves to a sickening white ; 
When they, in their agony, leap to the skies, 
Then sink in deep waters with moaning and 

sighs, 
May the voice that had power over wild Gali- 
lee 
Bid the storm-god " be still/' whisper " peace " 

unto thee ; 
Then praises shall rise from both shores to 

the Lord 
Who ruleth the tempest and calm by His 

word. 
(46) 



Within the halls of memory- 
Hang pictures of my life ; 

Some lie in calm and peaceful ways, 
Some 'mid the city's strife ; 

Some tell of loved departed ones, 
Some of a dear old home, 

Others of fair and pleasant lands 
Where I have chanced to roam. 

And now again new pictures come 
To claim a little space, 

Nor shall those pictures ever fade 
While memory holds her place, 

Geneva, on her terraced side, 

Lies bathed in glorious light, 

Reflected in the lake's cool depths 

As in a mirror bright. 

(47) 



48 From Geneva to Watkins Glen. 

And then that lake ! whose beauty 

The night but half conceals ; 
No pen or pencil paint the view 

The light of day reveals. 
Fair fields and vineyards, mountains 

That tower to kiss the sky, 
And lave their feet in waves whose hues 

Are borrowed from on high. 

And here and there a village fair 

Lends brightness to the scene, 
With Watkins like a diamond 

In crown of emerald green. 
Glen Alpha ! 'Tis with quickened pulse 

We tread thy narrow ways, 
And stop to look with wondrous awe, 

Then follow still the Maze. 

In Glen Cathedral's solemn aisle 
We pause with reverent fear ; 

Shut out from all the world, we feel 
Its Architect is near. 



Front Geneva to Watkins Glen. 49 

A choir of many waters 

Its ceaseless song doth raise, 

A choir that never wearies 
Of its Creator's praise. 

Did Senecas of old e'er think 

Here the Great Spirit dwelt ? 
And as they came within its walls 

His sacred presence felt ? 
We think it may be so, and yet 

Short time have we for thought : 
The things that are have to the Glen 

Our willing footsteps brought. 

O'er labyrinthine paths we move 

Through scenes that charm the sight, 
Scarce knowing which doth please us most, 

Which give us most delight — 
The pictures in the Shadow Gorge, 

The moss upon the wall, 
The mirrors in the Glen of Pools, 

The rainbow in the Fall. 
4 



50 From Geneva to Wat kins Glen. 

With many a lingering look we turn, 

Leaving the Glen behind ; 
All left us of its beauties rare 

Are pictures in our mind, 
And greater love to God, who made 

Our earthly home so fair, 
And gave us eyes of faith to see 

His footprints everywhere. 



M Christ is risen from the dead and become the firstfruits of them 
that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resur- 
rection from the dead." 

M My soul fleeth unto the Lord before the morning watch." 

WILL Easter ever come to me 

As in the by-gone time 
When nought but joyous, happy thoughts 

Came with the early chime ? 

Thoughts of a Saviour just arisen 
Triumphant from the grave ; 

Thoughts of the bright hopes newly born 
In those He died to save. 

Hopes that had died within the hearts 

Of all that sorrowing band 
When the loud, bitter cry was raised, 

And darkness filled the land. 



52 Easter Thoughts. 

When the bowed head and bleeding side 
Proclaimed death's victory won ; 

When the dark grave received their Lord, 
And malice sealed the stone. 

But " Christ is risen/' the angel said 

To Mary, at the tomb, 
And " Christ is risen " revived the hope 

That perished in the gloom. 

Last Easter came as bright and fair 

As any since that time ; 
The air as pure, the flowers as sweet, 

And just as glad the chime. 

But ah ! that joyous Easter chime 

Fell on a dying ear ; 
The last sound from the outer world 

The dying one would hear, 

For angels fair were leading her 
From joys that earth afford, 

Through the dark grave and gate of death 
To meet her risen Lord, 



Easter Thoughts, 53 

We wonder with what words of cheer 

He met her on the way ? 
And what the bliss to her revealed 

In Paradise that day ? 

We know not, nor can heart conceive 

The glories of that place ; 
We only know that heavenly joys 

Seemed mirrored in her face. 

We only know, as gathering clouds 
Obscured that Easter dawn, 

So darker shades than e'er before 
Across our path were drawn. 

And evermore with Easter morn 
Will thoughts of sadness come, 

Yet Christ, the Sun of Righteousness, 
Hath shed around the tomb 

Such rays of heavenly light and hope 
To cheer the mourner's heart, 

That to shut out all joy with grief 
Would be the heathen's part. 



54 Easter Thoughts. 

So with a firmer faith we grasp 
The promise He has given, 

And hope at the last Easter day 
To meet the loved in heaven. 

Easter Even, April 15, 1865. 



WRITTEN FOR THE MEMORIAL SERVICE OF WILLIAM 
H. DE WITT, WHO BUILT THE CHURCH OF THE 
HOLY INNOCENTS, ALBANY, N. Y., IN MEM- 
ORY OF FOUR INFANT CHILDREN. 

14 In Rama was there a voice heard ; lamentation, and weeping, and 
great mourning ; Rachel weeping for her children, and would not be 
comforted because they are not." 

The mothers in Rama sank sweetly to rest, 
With dear tender babes in their loving arms 

pressed ; 
No warning had they that the tyrant's dread 

sword 
Should make them first martyrs to Jesus, their 

Lord. 

The bright morning dawned o'er the country 
so fair ; 

A loud voice of wailing was heard on the air ; 

(55) 



56 Hymn. 

The mothers in Rama wept sore for the slain 
They never should fold in their fond arms 
again. 

No comfort had they in their dark hour of 

woe, 
Nor knew that Jehovah had ordered it so, 
Till lowly they sat at the dear Saviour's feet, 
And drew from His teaching this lesson so 

sweet — 

That all who for Him ever suffered and died 
Should with Him in glory forever abide, 
And they who would enter that home unde- 

filed, 
In heart and in spirit must be as a child. 

We bless Thee, O Lord, that the infant of days 
May glorify Thee, and in death win Thee 

praise ; 
We thank Thee, O Lord, that when called to 

depart 
The aged may be as the child, pure in heart. 



Hymn. 57 

That Thy faithful servant, now gone from our 
sight, 

In Paradise rests with the children of light ; 

Oh, grant us Thy grace so to follow Thee here 

That we, with Thy servant, in heaven may ap- 
pear 

Holy Innocent's Day, 1872. 



*' Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, 
he shall not enter therein." 

We come again, as in past days, 
To sing our joyful Christmas lays ; 
No note of woe should mar the strain 
The angels sang o'er Judah's plain. 

We come again, as in past days, 
To tell the wonders of His ways 
Who took from earth an infant band 
To praise Him in a fairer land. 

To tell how Christ, for whom they died, 
Drew little children to His side, 
And in His loving arms did press, 
And blessed, as only He can bless. 

How mourning mothers from that day 

" Thy will be done " have learned to say," 
(58) 



Hymn, 59 

And love to think their babes at rest 
Upon the gentle Saviours breast. 

And we would breathe a low, sweet strain 
As in this place we meet again, 
In memory of the faithful friend 
Who, loving, served us to the end. 

We also bless Thy holy Name, 
Who art in every age the same, 
That Thou dost gather unto Thee 
All souls of child-like purity. 

Here in the church he loved so well 
Let Thy free Spirit ever dwell, 
To cleanse and purify each heart 
That in its worship takes a part. 

So shall the work that he began 

Be blessed unto his fellow-man ; 

And ransomed souls shall sing Thy praise 

With him through everlasting days. 

Holy Innocent's Day, 1873. 



M Thanks be unto God for His unspeakable gift." 

THERE'S a story told of an artisan 

Who fashioned in metal well, 
And showed his thanks for the talent God gave 

By making His church a bell. 

It rang out with joy to welcome his bride, 

It rang for his children's birth ; 
It tolled with a sad and solemn sound 

When these treasures were laid in earth. 

But a wondrous charm to its tongue was given 
To soothe the woe in his breast ; 

He knew by the comfort its sweet tones gave 
That in giving he had been blessed. 

And he grew to love with a strong, deep love, 

The friend high up in the spire 
(60) 



Consecrated Talents. 61 

That seemed to call him from cares of earth 
To holier things, and higher. 

He thought of the joy his one gift had brought, 
He thought of the Gift from heaven. 

He thought of the thousands of dying men 
To whom new life might be given. 

And time and talent and all that he had, 
Every thought and deed and word, 

As thanks for His great unspeakable Gift 
He laid at the feet of the Lord. 

Then a wondrous charm to his tongue was 
given 

As he told the message of love, 
And he knew by the peace that came to men 

That his work was accepted above. 



We enter, Lord, with gladness 

Thy sacred courts to-day ; 
We banish thoughts of sadness, 

And raise a thankful lay, 
With cheerful hearts and voices 

We raise the joyful strain, 
And pray that Thou wilt bless us 

Until we meet again. 

In mercy Thou hast brought us 
This bright, glad day to see, 

And by Thy Spirit taught us 
How we may live for Thee. 

With cheerful hearts and voices 
We raise the joyful strain, 

And pray that Thou wilt bless us 

Until we meet again. 
(62) 



Anniversary Hymn. 63 

In kindness Thou hast taken 

Some loved ones from our eyes, 
But only to awaken 

With Thee in Paradise. 
With cheerful hearts and voices 

We raise the joyful strain, 
And pray that Thou wilt bless us 

Until we meet again. 

And when on earth forever 

These tongues shall silent be, 
Then take us where we never 

Shall cease from praising Thee. 
With cheerful hearts and voices 

We raise the parting strain, 
And pray that Thou wilt keep us 

Until we meet again. 



BRIGHT Easter Morn! sad memories 

Come thronging with thy light. 
Sad memories of sad, sad days, 

And a far sadder night 
When in the shadow of the grave 

Our well-beloved lay, 
And wrestled with the angel Death 

Until the break of day. 

Wrestled until the blessing came 

Of everlasting peace, 
And perfect rest from care and pain 

'Mid joys that never cease. 
Rest with the saints in Paradise, 

Rest with the loved ones gone, 

Rest with her Saviour, till shall break' 

The last great Easter morn. 
(64) 



Easter Memories. 65 

Glad Easter bells ! sad memories 

Are with your notes combined ; 
One Easter morn thy merry tunes 

Came floating on the wind, 
Came floating through the casemen; 

Unto the dying ear 
Of one who never more on earth 

Sweet melodies should hear, 

For ere thy chimes had ceased to ring 

The joyous Easter in, 
Her spirit left its home of clay, 

Of weakness, pain, and sin, 
And cheered by heavenly music 

From bright angelic bands, 
She sought beyond the gates of death 

" A house not made with hands." 

Sweet Easter flowers ! sad memories 

Are with thy beauties blent, 
For flowers that through the hallowed fane 

Their fragrant odors sent, 
5 



66 Easter Memories, 

Were brought to cheer the saddened home, 

Where lay our sainted dead, 
And speak to us of hope in death, 

When hope in life had fled. 

To speak, with sweetly silent voice, 

The resurrection power 
Of Him who from the earth's dark tomb 

Had raised each beauteous flower. 
Who, victor over Death and Hell 

And o'er the insatiate grave, 
Had risen, the firstfruits from the dead, 

The Life, with power to save. 

Dear Easter hopes ! sad memories 

Shall gladden in thy light 
As surely as the coming day 

Dispels the shades of night. 
As surely as the Light that broke 

Upon the world that day 
Brought life to view, and took from death 

The bitterness away. 



Easter Memories. 67 

Then in this light will we rejoice, 

And sorrow not as those 
Around whose friends, untinged with hope, 

Death's darkest shadows close. 
Ring out, ye bells, your gladdest lay ! 

Still breathe of hope, ye flowers ! 
The voice that to her heart spake peace, 

Shall whisper " peace " to ours. 



Whenever we think or read of the Angel 
at the Sepulchre an ideal always comes to 
our mind ; an ideal so beautiful that it is ever 
welcome to the place it has assumed.* 

We saw it first when the artist was giving 
the final touches to this grand creation of his 
genius, and as we stood in awe before its ma- 
jestic purity, could not but hope he might 
long remain with us who could so embody 
the spirit of beauty in " the beauty of holi- 
ness." We saw it last in the " City of the 
Dead/' where surrounding loveliness enhanced 
every grace. Encircled by living green ; stand- 
ing in bold relief against a background of 
deepest blue, with just one ray of golden 



* A monument, by Palmer, in the Albany Rural Cemetery, to the 
memory of Mrs. Robert Lenox Banks. 

(68) 



The Angel at the Sepulchre. 69 

light from the western sky touching the face, 
it was something one could not easily forget. 
It seemed not like cold marble, but like a 
living watcher over the sleeping dead, only- 
waiting until the resurrection morn to speak 
words of joy, and lead them to their risen 
and ascended Lord. 

Why come ye to this lower world, 

Bright angel from above ? 
Why leave the realms of glorious light, 

Of purest joy and love, 
To linger in the gloomy dawn 

Beside an earthly tomb 
Whose open door, with broken seal, 

Shows but an empty room ? 

No minister of wrath art thou, 
To grasp the avenging sword ; 

Not thine to execute on earth 
The terrors of the Lord. 

Though majesty doth sit serene 
Upon thy lofty brow, 



yo The Angel at the Sepulchre. 

Too near Love's throne thy place hath been 
To lose Love's image now. 

Why tarry then ? and who are they 

The sun's first rays reveal ? 
They surely can not roll the stone, 

They dare not break Rome's seal ! 
They pause in doubt — then hasten on 

Toward the sacred place ; 
In mute surprise they gaze around, 

Then look upon thy face. 

And this is why thou lingerest ? 

Thou hast somewhat to tell 
To these sad women at the tomb ! 

Oh, it shall please them well, 
For never yet bore messenger 

Such words of holy cheer ! 
" The Lord is risen, go seek Him hence, 

Thou canst not find Him here." 

The Lord is risen ! that glorious strain 
Shall never die away 



The Angel at the Sepulchre. 71 

Till thou shalt come with that dear One 

At the last Easter day, 
To bid the dead in Him arise 

And with the quick ascend, 
That they who sought an unseen Lord 

May find a present Friend. 



(£M&vtn f # 1* §tm. 

We praise Thee, O God ; 

Thy children shall sing 
With all things on earth 

That worship their King, 
While angels and cherubs 

And seraphs do cry, 
And Holy, thrice Holy, 

Resound through the sky. 

Prophets and martyrs, 
Apostles praise Thee ; 

The Church in all places 
Wherever it be 

Doth own Thee as Father, 
Thy Son ever bless, 

And both, with the Spirit 

One God doth confess. 

(72) 



Children s Te Deum. 73 

Thou Christ, as the King 

Of glory we own, 
Who humbly to earth 

Came down from Thy throne 
To win for believers, 

Through death's sharpest pain, 
A home everlasting 

In glory again. 

Save, Lord, Thy people, 

Thine heritage bless ; 
Govern and keep us 

From sin and distress. 
Lord Jesus, have mercy ; 

We trust in Thy name, 
Have mercy upon us, 

And save us from shame. 



i. 

O BLESSED Lord Jesus, we sing to Thy praise 
The sweetest glad songs that our voices can 

raise. 
With joy do we hasten Thy coming to greet, 
And hailing Thee Saviour, bend low at Thy 

feet. 

Chorus. 
The angels are singing Thy praise through the 

sky, 
Earth's glad voices ringing shall join theirs on 

high; 
Deep unto deep calleth, thanksgiving to raise, 
And mountains and valleys break forth into 

praise. 

O blessed Lord Jesus, we heed not that Thou 
Hast come to the earth in humility now ; 
74) 



Christmas Carols. 75 

We know that the prophets and sages of old 
No splendor or pomp at Thy coming foretold. 

O blessed Lord Jesus ? Thy coming to earth 
Has given earth's children a glorious birth ; 
Now God is our Father, our Brother Thou art, 
Make quickly Thy home in each fond waiting 
heart. 

O blessed Lord Jesus, bright star of our night, 
Make glad all the nations that walk in Thy 

light. 
Shine on in Thy brightness, the heathen to 

bless, 
Till all tongues united Thy name shall confess. 



j6 Christmas Carols. 



II. 

DOWN through the clouds in the silent night, 
Far from their homes in glorious light, 
Came fair angels to sing o'er the earth 
The joyful news of the Saviour's birth. 

Chorus. 

And the heavens rang 
With the song they sang, 
There is peace on the earth, good-will to man. 
And glory to God in the highest. 

The listening shepherds heard the sound, 
And saw the wonderful light around, 
And heard the voice of an angel say, 
" There are glad tidings for you to-day." 

They came in haste to the lowly place, 

And looked with joy on the Christ-child's face ; 

No offerings rare had they to bring, 

But they worshipped Him as Lord and King. 



Christmas Carols, JJ 

The magi wise, in the east afar, 
Saw the light that seemed a guiding star, 
And following, came where its radiance shed 
A holy light round an infant's head. 

The gifts they brought were costly and rare, 
Such gifts as for great ones only are, 
But they laid them at the infant's feet, 
And deemed that for Him such gifts were 
meet. 

Oh, rich and wise, bring your gifts to-day, 
And join with earth's poor ones to swell the 

lay 
That first was heard on that Christmas night, 
When angels came from the realms of light 
And the heavens rang 
With the song they sang, 
There is peace on earth, good-will to man, 
And glory to God in the highest. 



78 Christmas Carols. 



III. 

Ring out, ring out, O Christmas bells ! 
A tale of joy your music tells ; 
A Saviour King was born to-day 
To rule the hearts of men for aye. 

Chorus. 

For this we join to swell the strain 
The angels sang o'er Judah's plain ; 
Glory to God, good-will to men 
Shall rise and fill the heavens again. 

O Lord of lords and King of kings, 
Sweet peace and joy Thy presence brings; 
We know the Father loved us well 
To rescue thus our souls from hell. 

But who can measure all the love 

That brought Thee from Thy throne above, 



Christmas Carols. 79 

With us to live, for us to die, 

That we might dwell with Thee on high. 

Dear Saviour, elder Brother, Friend, 
Abide with us till life shall end ; 
And then, when death shall set us free, 
Within the kingdom won by Thee, 

Earth's ransomed ones shall swell the strain 

All worthy is the Lamb once slain, 

" Honor and glory to receive 

From all created things that breathe." 



What shall I do with Jesus, called the Christ? 
This lone, strange man ! So sad and yet so 

calm ; 
So awful in His silent majesty 
I fear the power He spake of may be His 
To crush me if I do this evil deed. 
For well I know 'tis evil. Fault there's none. 
His innocence doth so envelope Him, 
I could not think Him guilty if I would. 
And yet methinks if He hath any power 
r Twere never better used than now to hurl 
Defiance at these envious, hateful Jews, 
And wreak His vengeance on the coward crew 
That e'en desert Him in His direst need. 
I fain would save Him, for my heart is stirred 
To pity it hath never known before. 
Pity and Fear ! Strange feelings these for 

Pilate ! 

Shall I hold to them, and make my nobler 
(80) 



Pilate s Question. 8 1 

Conquer my baser self? Or shall I make 
Myself a slave to serve these angry dogs 
That cry for blood, and will not be appeased 
Though blood were offered, if it be not His, 
And grudge me if they be not satisfied? 

Yet why should I — a Roman — lose one chance 
For place or power to succor one so friend- 
less ? 
Deserted, save by a few weak women ; 
One voice alone upraised to plead for Him, 
And that the voice of one who may lose most 
If I am merciful. From the vast throng 
That followed where He went, and heard the 

words 
That fell as graciously upon their ears 
As falls the evening dew on sun-scorched 

flowers, 
Comes not one sound to help me choose the 

right, 
Or strengthen good resolves. His blood — 
they cry — 

Be on us and our children. Let it be. 
6 



82 Pilate's Question. 

I'll wash my hands to prove my innocence; 
Then yield Him to them. 

What shall I do with Jesus ? Ever now 
Between me and the things I look upon 
Comes a clear vision of that pale, worn face, 
With its last look of awful agony 
That will not be put out in darkest night. 
When sleep comes not, then is the vision there ; 
And when sleep comes, then comes that face 

in dreams. 
When morning dawns and with its veil of 

light 
Shuts out the stars, it shuts not out from me 
The dazzling brightness of those searching 

eyes. 
The burning glances of a thousand midday 

suns 
Upon my naked sight were not so hard to bear. 
I could curse the nation that drove me on 
To do the deed, conscience, seared though it 

w r as, 
Still told me I should bitterly repent. 



Pilate s Question. 83 

Oh, would that I had known that day the 

power 
An outraged conscience doth possess to goad 
The mind to madness — take all joy from life. 
Banished, deserted, homeless, powerless, 
Haunted forever by that face, and thoughts 
Of that one deed that make me ever feel 
That it were better I had not been born, 
What can life hold for such a wretch as I ? 
And death ? I dare not look upon it, 
For ere 1 left the Syrian shore I heard 
Christ's followers proclaim a risen Lord, 
And reason well of judgment yet to come. 
Can it be that in that dreaded future 
Our places shall be changed ? I the culprit? 
He the Judge? If I trembled even then 
Before His gaze, where, where shall I hide me 
If these things be true ? And that they are 
I am as sure as of His innocence. 
Oh, miserable man ! Comfortless ; hopeless ; 
Trembling I ask, "What will He do with 

me?" 



84 Pilate s Question, 

What shall I do with Jesus? For himself 
Must each one ask and answer Pilate's ques^ 

tion. 
For the dear Lord still waiteth patiently, 
With pleading face, and tender, wistful look, 
For words that put Him to an open shame 
Or hold Him in the closest bonds of love. 
O soul immortal ! What shall be thy choice ? 
To send Him sad and sorrowing from thee 

now, 
Or make of Him thy Friend, that in that day 
When thou shalt stand before the Judgment- 
seat 
Thou mayest not fear what He will do with 
thee. 



$W0 Wttlttt. 

SUGGESTED by a picture by the celebrated 
French painter, Horace Vernet, of the " An- 
gel of Death bearing off a young girl.'' A 
youth at her side has hidden his face, that he 
may not see the approach of the " King of 
Terrors/' who comes to the girl, not as the 
grinning, ghastly skeleton we so often see rep- 
resented, but as an angelic messenger, with a 
form dark and mysterious, it is true, but a 
face, when closely inspected, of celestial beauty, 
and a touch too gentle to disturb the impress 
of her form on the couch from which he is 
raising her, while the youth seems unconscious 
of his presence. 

I. 

Oh, horrid, grim, and ghastly death ! 

Thou comest with thy chilling breath 

To wither all the flowers of hope 

That in my pathway lie. 

(85) 



86 Tzvo Voices. 

The fairest maid these eyes have seen 
Was mine to woo and win, I ween ; 
'Twas only on life's downward slope 
I thought that she might die. 

By pleasant paths, o'er fragrant flowers, 
I hoped to lead my love to bowers 
And shady nooks of living green, 
Where zephyrs wander free. 
Love's rosy light I thought would last, 
But thou hast come to overcast 
Its glowing morn, and stand between 
My cherished one and me. 

I can not see thee grasp her hand 
And lead her to the unknown land 
Through dismal shades, where phantoms grim 
May freeze her soul with fright. 
O Reason ! thy poor, flickering ray 
Lures but to darken sorrow's day, 
For Death is king where faith is dim, 
And thine the only light. 



Two Voices. 87 

II. 

My loving, patient watcher sleeps ; 
The long, sad vigil that he keeps 
Beside my couch has wearied him 
E'en to forgetfulness. 
Dear Father, in Thy love impart 
Some solace to his breaking heart ; 
The cup Thou fillest to the brim 

With anguish, do Thou bless. 

Give him the faith Thou givest to me — ■ 
The faith beyond this world to see 
A glorious realm where Thou art King, 
Nor sin, nor death shall reign. 
I feel the messenger is near 
That parts me from my loved one here ; 
But thou, O Death, hast lost thy sting, 
Christ's dead shall live again. 

So gently dost thou draw me hence, 
So softly steal my soul from sense 
And bear me on to Paradise 

To meet my Saviour dear, 



88 Two Voices. 

Though dim and shadowy thou art, 
No terror doth thy form impart ; 
There is a look within thine eyes 
Forbids all thought of fear. 

It may be I shall pass to light 
Through shadows darker than the night, 
But since my Lord hath been that way 
I will not dread the tomb : 
I know that I can trust His power 
Most fully in the darkest hour ; 
His promise is — to be my stay 
Until I leave the gloom. 



I 



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